Tangled Destinies
by deathangel3
Summary: Heero is a cold, lonely little tyrant until he meets Duo. What will happen? AU, yaoi (1x2). Sorry chapter one's so short, haven't had much time to write...heh, heh...
1. Prologue

-Prologue-  
  
Most everyone can say that they have someone special, someone to trust, to share things with. Not me. I am alone.  
  
I own every inch of this manor, from the depths of the crystalline lake to the miles of narrow, dimly lit passages and corridors. It is mine. All mine. Only mine.  
  
I do not suppose my parents intended for me to be this way, alone, but I would not know; they were brutally murdered two days after my birth by my uncle, in a mad attempt to gain control of the manor. He failed to reckon with me, however. Of course, he tried to kill me too. He threw me to the churning waves of the fathomless lake, enough to kill most any infant. But not me. I was strong. I survived. My uncle, of course, was arrested for his crimes, but it was too late. The damage had been done. The fief of Crystal Lake was without a ruler.  
  
After a year of civil war, so I am told, my parent's will was finally found. I was to rule over the manor, despite my young age. So, at the age of one, I became Lord of Crystal Lake. Me. Alone. 


	2. Chapter One

-Chapter One-  
  
The slender shadow glided smoothly over the faded carpeting that lined the dark, creepy corridor. The Lord of Crystal Lake cut an imposing figure. The regal way in which he held himself, paired with the way his cold, cobalt blue eyes surveyed his familiar surroundings more than made up for his young age.  
  
The manor of Crystal Lake was no place for a child. The cavernous, dark rooms and rocky terrains were no place to play. Laughter, or any loud noise, for that matter, reverberated around the huge rooms until one was driven mad by the sound. So, growing up at Crystal Lake had turned the little Lord into a cold, hard, steely adult in an adolescent's body.  
  
He was fifteen now, old enough to properly rule. Of course, he had been doing just that for as long as he could remember, but few people think that obeying the orders of a cynical three year old tyrant is worthwhile. Given, they had to obey. Otherwise, the spoiled little boy would have them imprisoned, or worse. The Lord was a law unto himself.  
  
But he was older now, still spoiled, perhaps even more so, but he had learned to think before he spoke, had learned to be cunning. Having no other people to talk to, he had grown up silent, and rarely talked unless to give an order. He always wore a glare on his face, and the last time anyone had remember him smiling was. . .never.  
  
Dressed in somber black to suit his mood, his soft shoes made no sound on the hard floor. His dark hair ruffled slightly from the breeze coming in through an open window. As he continued down the passage, destination in mind, any foolish enough to lounge in the Lord's personal corridors quickly sprinted out of the way.  
  
When he got to the training yard, he picked up his sword. A beautiful thing it was, made of rippling blue steel, with a point sharp enough to cut. . .well, anything. He gave it an experimental swing, then his eyes glazed over as he entered the trance-like state he achieved when training. He swung the sword faster and faster in a dance, until the air sung with the sword's music, and boy and blade were one continuous blur of steel.  
  
When he slowly lowered the blade, came out of the hypnotic trance, he heard, faintly.applause? No one should be here! Furiously, he whipped around, dropping his precious sword as he went. A pretty young man, his age, was leaning casually against the rail of a fence. "You're good with a blade," he remarked nonchalantly.  
  
His eyes flashed. "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, drawing each word out slowly and carfully. "These grounds are mine. Only mine."  
  
The boy smiled. "I'm just watching. Besides, these are open grounds. Anyone can come here."  
  
The Lord was dangerously close to erupting. "Do you know who I am? If I say they are mine, they are mine!"  
  
"I know you are a spoiled boy who needs manners when speaking to people, Heero." His tone was still calm.  
  
The Lord's face tightened in confusion. That name was familiar.He ignored the first bit and asked slowly, "What did you call me?"  
  
A wide smile appeared on the stranger's face. "Heero Yuy. That's you, right? Or are you some peasant posing as the Lord of Crystal Lake?"  
  
"How dare you?! Get out, now!"  
  
"I'm going, I'm going. I'll see you around, then." With that, he disappeared into the wooded forest around the training yards.  
  
Heero remained staring after him for at least ten minutes. He had never been spoken to in such a tone. And that name.it was his, he knew that much. But he had never been called by it. The only thing anyone ever called him was 'Master' or 'Lord'. Heero figured no one even knew his real name. But apparantly, someone did.  
  
When a servant girl bearing a bucket of water and a cup appeared at his side, he absently asked, "Who the hell was that?"  
  
She giggled. "That must have been the son of that new ambassador!"  
  
Heero sighed. Just what he needed. He usually took his meals alone; with a new ambassador, he'd have to eat with him and his impertinent son. He'd known they were coming, it had merely 'slipped his mind,' as people called it. He mentally kicked himself. It wasn't like him to forget such things. 


End file.
